Steve Rogers' First Christmas
by lulibear16
Summary: Steve has a difficult first Christmas since his rebirth, and takes a walk around New York City trying to figure out what life he's living.


"Enjoying yourself, Mr. Rogers?" asked Agent Coulson as he turned to Steve. Steve had been absorbed in his thoughts and had a hard time snapping out of it.

"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I mean, it's nice…" he responded, looking around. Tony was, of course, showing off by the punch bowl while Pepper was chatting with Bruce about a new solar paneled plane that just debuted at NASA. Thor had made it to Earth just for the occasion, and was busy introducing Jane to everyone else. Clint and Natasha were even there, seeing as Natasha managed to get all that red off her ledger. Everyone was there, but it felt like a dream. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel like Christmas.

"Yeah, I mean, I know it's just a company party. But you know, I hope it's not too lame," said Coulson as he drank the punch. Steve smiled politely, and then made his way to the punch bowl himself. He felt lightheaded and parched. He just got there as Tony finished his little party trick.

"Steve, my man!" said Tony as Steve approached, putting an arm around his shoulders. "How do you like the party? It can't be as classy as one of those you had 70 years ago, I'm sure."

"Yeah it's… different. But, nice. Don't get me wrong, it's real nice," Steve said, knitting his brows. He was getting dizzy. "Listen, I'll, ah, see you later, kay? I need some fresh air…" he said, excusing himself as Tony gave him a hearty pat on the back. As he made his way to the door it got harder and harder to walk right. He left the room and made his way out of the secluded office building, ending up in an alleyway. He breathed in and out the cold New York air. Leaning against the brick building, his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. He started laughing and shaking his head.

"Jesus, I got beat up in this alley. This alley right here. Seventy goddamned years ago," he muttered, wiping his forehead. A cold gust of air hit him and he buttoned up his wool coat a little tighter. Raising the collar, he headed out to the street. New York was illuminated like, well, like New York during Christmastime. He started walking without any real destination. He just started walking and didn't stop. The streets were more or less deserted, except for the occasional car zooming by. Steve still hadn't gotten used to the new cars. Looked like a science fiction movie to him.

As he walked, Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets. He stopped as he felt paper crumple underneath his fingertips. He closed his fist around the paper and dragged it out of his pocket. Unraveling it, he sighed. At the last minute he had grabbed Peggy's profile from the files he was given by SHIELD. Steve looked at it a minute before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking on. He was determined to stop thinking of her. It had been so long, who knew if she still even remembered him. And if she did, she certainly wouldn't look like how he remembered her. He patted his chest pocket, reassuring that he still had the locket with her picture in it. SHIELD had found it in the wreck.

In the distance he heard _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas._ That was his favorite Christmas song. He still remembered the year _Meet Me in St. Louis _came out. The theatre was packed, and Judy Garland was beautiful. That had been his last Christmas.

Steve kept walking, head down, until he stopped in front of an illuminated store—Macy's. _Gee,_ he thought, _the products they carry have kinda changed, haven't they? _There weren't many people in there, just employees cleaning up. He drew in a deep breath and decided to walk in. Who knows, maybe he'd find something he liked. Steve walked up to the doors, which slid open by themselves. He shook his head. _Still trying to get used to those_. He walked around, and finally decided to go to the children's section. His heart sunk as he saw the bright red firetrucks had been replaced by high tech motor-powered cars, the china dolls by plastic Barbies. He walked around to the back, and his eyes widened at a familiar sight. On a shelf, hidden by wrapping paper, he saw teddy bears, just like the kind he got his sixth Christmas_. The good ol' Macy's brand kind_. He picked one up, feeling its soft fabric and squishy belly. Suddenly he heard a voice behind him.

"Ya lookin' for a last minute gift, buddy?" a high pitched voice sounded behind him. He turned around, the bear still in his hand. He was met with the tired, smiling face of one of Santa's elves. Steve smiled, but his eyes betrayed him. "Are you ok, buddy? Listen, your kid will love that bear. We've been carrying it for almost 80 years. Never disappoints. I promise," she grinned, broom in hand. She saw his sadness as he looked at the bear, debating whether to put it back or keep it. She sighed. Day after day she saw distant parents pushing each other to get the most high tech or advanced toys for their spoiled brats. Finally, someone who cared enough to look at the toys no one ever wanted. She drew a little bit closer to him and rested her arm on the broom. "You know, not many people ever even come back here. I can tell ya'r the kind of guy that never forgets the little guys, eh? Listen, I know what'll cheer ya up. Ya know, Santa's still around. The ol' kook is 90 somethin, but he'll never leave till closing time. Maybe talking to him will give you back some of that Christmas spirit," she offered, the bells on her hat jingling. Steve looked up.

"Ninety years? You're telling me… Wait, does his name happen to be George Andrews?" he asked, jittery. He knew a guy in base camp named George Andrews that would always talk about wanting to be the youngest Santa Clause at Macy's. All he ever wanted in life was to make a few kids smile.

"Yeah, Mr. Andrews," the elf responded, surprised. "He got wounded in World War II and became the youngest Santa Clause here. He's mighty old, but we haven't had the heart to fire him. Poor man, all he's ever wanted in life was to make a few kids smile." Steve drew up to her briskly, the bear still in hand.

"Can you take him to me? Please," he said, putting an arm on her shoulder. She gave him a weird look. _Maybe this guy's a little too odd_, she thought. She shrugged. Better than some bitchy stay at home mom. Steve followed her to the Santa throne, and shuffled to the red carpet. He stood there, as the elf went up to notify Santa there was someone there to see him. George smiled and looked over at what he expected to be a little kid. His eyes were instead met by those of an old friend. He stood up as Steve walked up to him. His hand trembled as he shook Steve's.

"S-Steve? They told me you were dead," he muttered, a tear streaming down his face. Steve smiled, but even _his_ eyes watered.

"I was. They pulled me out of the ice. So, you did it, George. Youngest Santa Clause at Macy's," Steve responded, trying his hardest to grin.

"Yeah," George chuckled and shook his head. "Now I'm probably the oldest. I can't believe it. Steve Rogers. You know you don't look a day over ninety-one." Steve laughed. It was probably the first time he'd laughed in a while. The elf just stared at them, incredulous.

"Neither do you, George, neither do you," Steve chuckled, drawing a chair up to the throne so Santa could rest.

"You know, Steve, the world has changed a lot since you left. People have gotten meaner; there are a lot of bad people in this world. I hope you know that even at 92 years old, the people will always remember what you did for them. Especially Peggy," George said, staring into Steve's eyes. Steve looked away, as his eyes clouded over. George sighed. "You h_ave_ gone to see her, haven't you? C'mon, Steve. She went through hell after you died. She left the corps, you know. She couldn't stand seeing another man in khakis. All she could think of was you." Steve nodded absently. "She loved you."

"I—I loved her too. I… I just think that if I were to see her again, it wouldn't be the same," he muttered. George put a shaky hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, I know it's hard. But would it hurt to try? I still see her sometimes. In my eyes she'll always be that beautiful Peggy she's always been. I think the same goes for you. Steve, you better go see her. I don't want to be a negative nancy, but us veterans, we don't got much time. We're getting old. We don't all have our bodies from service like you, my friend," George smiled. He noticed the teddy bear in Steve's hands. "She always did like teddy bears." Steve looked him in the eyes, then down at the bear. He smiled. "It's on the house, Steve. Think about it as a present from Santa Clause," George said, grinning his toothless smile. He looked over to the elf, who was still staring at them with big eyes. "Put it on my bill, Carly," he said.

"Yes, sir," she said, speeding off. George looked back at Steve.

"That's my granddaughter," he told him. Steve nodded.

"Mighty fine young lady, George," he responded, standing up. They shook hands. George handed Steve his card.

"If you ever want to talk again, get a coffee or something, give me a call. It's good to have you back, Steve," he said. Steve's eyes became watery as he looked in his friend's blue eyes, holding his trembling hand. Steve thanked him again and left Macy's. He got back into the street and made his way over to a bench. He sat down, and held his head in his hands. Now that he was alone he let his tears spill out. All of his friends were dead or dying, and there he was, young as ever. Why was he spared? Why couldn't George have more time with his granddaughter? Why did Peggy have so little time left while he still had a lifetime? Why did he have to start a new life, when he had had a perfectly good one before?

And then he thought of Tony, and Bruce. Coulson and Maria. Fury. Clint and Natasha. Pepper. Thor. This was his new family. His new friends. And as he stood up, the teddy bear in one hand and Peggy's address in the other, he knew that if he really had to have a new life, he couldn't have chosen better people to live it with. He made his way back, but taking a different route. The snow started falling on his blonde hair, and he wrapped his scarf a little tighter around his neck. He passed a couple holding hands. The girl had curly brown hair and big brown eyes. When she laughed, New York's lights danced in her eyes. Steve picked up his pace.

Finally, Steve stopped in front of an old brick apartment. He looked down at the crumpled up yellow paper. It was the right address. He took out a clean piece of paper and a pen. Thinking for a minute, he began writing.

_Dear Peggy, _

_I miss you. I miss the way you always believed in me, even when nobody else did. I miss the way you were the strongest willed woman I've ever known. I even miss that time you shot my shield four times with your shotgun. I know I've been gone for a long time, but I'm here now. And I was wondering if you have time for that date. I still haven't learned how to dance yet, so I was hoping you'd still be able to teach me how. I'm still waiting for the perfect partner. I hope you have a great Christmas and I hope you like this teddy bear. Here's my phone number, call me when you get a chance. _

_ Love, _

_ Steve Rogers_

Steve tied the card on the bear with some string and left it on the doorstep. He lingered a moment, but the apartment was dark and not a thing stirred. Finally, he started walking, making his way back to the company party. He walked up the alley, that same alley he had gotten beat up in 70 years ago. His eyes were damp, but he kept walking. He'd always keep walking. Not even death could keep him down. He was 92 years old with a spring in his step and a song on his lips. He opened the door carefully, and was met with a group of friendly voices.

"Steve! You're back! I'm so glad. Are you feeling any better?" asked Pepper as she patted his arm and handed him a glass of punch. He forced a smile and nodded thank you. Bruce shook his hand.

"Steve, my man! You're just in time to hear about the time I met the president. You look cold, want some scotch?" Tony grinned, patting him on the back. Steve couldn't hold back a smile.

"There's our big ol' soldier," grinned Natasha. Clint gave him a candy cane.

"We missed you! We're just about to start some caroling. I mean, you couldn't possibly miss Fury singing Santa Baby, could you?" Clint chuckled.

"I will NOT be singing Santa Baby, Agent!" Fury shouted from across the room.

"Would you like some of this melted chocolate, Captain of America? It is most delicious. This is Jane, she's been waiting to meet you!" said Thor as he and Jane handed Steve a cup of hot chocolate.

"Don't forget, Cap! You still have to sign my trading cards. The ones that *ahem* Fury soiled," Coulson said, glaring at Fury.

"They needed the motivation!" Fury shouted back. As they all crowded around the piano, Steve felt a little less lonely. He was surrounded by new friends that loved him and trusted him. Sure, he still missed his friends from the war, but he was here now. He cheated death, and found a new life ready to embrace him. This Christmas was not only the birth of Jesus; it was the birth of a new Steve Rogers.


End file.
